OUR WOMEN; UNDER ACID ATTACS

We were waiting this. This is the “breaking news” in Turkish media while conservative newspapers and TVs are trying to deny. Dogan News Agency and many others are reporting the victims already reached 5;

Girls attacked for wearing short skirts.

“Two teenage girls were attacked on separate occasions by unknown assailants who sprayed an acidic substance on their legs in the Mediterranean province of Mersin yesterday.

Both girls were approached from behind by a group of men in their 20s who sprayed a substance on their legs that burnt through their stockings and caused skin lacerations, according to reports.

Doctors said the substance sprayed on the girls' legs could be a strong acid. The police is still searching for the culprits. Based on witness accounts and statements by the girls, the police concluded that the same individuals had attacked them both.

One girl said she was on her way home from school when two or three men in their 20s passed by her and said her skirt was too short. Soon afterwards she felt a substance sprayed on her stockings and an immediate burning sensation. When she looked at her legs she noticed that her stockings were burnt. The incident provoked panic with rumors circulating that girls in short skirts are being attacked, reported the Doğan news agency.”

Can it surprize us? Certainly not. We withnessed examples at conservative neighborhoods before. This is the mentality which tries to put women behind veils, which want Sheria as the final goal.

The law didn’t even signed by the President yet but they begin to throw nitric acid to young girls’, teenagers’ legs.

Tomarrow covering our heads, hairs will not seem enough, they will want our faces to be locked behind veils and throw acid to our faces, eyes.

This is the mentality which banned red roses in Saudi Arabia, wanting to ban “love” itself. This is the mentality which stone women to death when they become “rape victims of men”.

Though they are unaware who they are trying to deal with this time; "Turkish women".

Reminding only two poems of Nazım Hikmet and announcing proudly to be ready to begin a new Independence War as Turkish Women is enough for now. They will not be able to turn us to their "black bugs". If needed, in price of being burried in acid wells, our women will not surrender to darkness.


THE FACES OF OUR WOMEN

Mary didn't give birth to God.
Mary isn't the mother of God.
Mary is one mother among many mothers.
Mary gave birth to a son,
a son among many sons.
That's why Mary is so beautiful in all the pictures of her.
That's why Mary's son is so close to us, like our own sons.

The faces of our women are the book of our pains.
Our pains, our faults and the blood we shed
carve scars on the faces of our women like plows.

And our joys are reflected in the eyes of women
like the dawns glowing on the lakes.

Our imaginations are on the faces of women we love.
Whether we see them or not, they are before us,
closest to our realities and furthest.

And from "THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE"

CHAPTER SEVEN 1922, THE MONTH OF AUGUST and OUR WOMEN

Ox-carts rolled under the moon.
Rolled the ox-carts on to Afyon via Akşehir.
The land was so endless and so wide,
mountains so far,
it was as if those on the move
could never reach, never any target.
The ox-carts moved on with their solid oak wheels.
And they
were the first wheels rolling under the moon.
The oxen under the moon
as if they were from a tiny alien world
were small, were stunted,
there were shimmers in their sickly broken horns
and what flowed under their feet
was land,
was land
and land.
The night was bright and warm
and in the ox-carts the dark blue shells
lay naked in their wooden crates.
And the women
without letting on
stole looks at the dead oxen and wheels under the moon
from earlier convoys.
And women,
our women:
with their huge sacred hands,
their delicate small chins and large eyes
our mothers, our wives, our beloved
and who die as if never have lived
and whose place at our table
comes after our ox
and those we abduct to the hills and go to gaol for
and those at the harvest, the tobacco, firewood and the market
and who are harnessed to the plough
and in barns
in the glint of daggers plunged into the earth
women who become ours
with their heavy rolling hips and their bells,
our women
now under the moon
following the ox-carts and cartridges
had the same peace of mind,
the same tired force of habit
of hauling stalks with amber ears to be threshed.
And slender necked children were asleep
at the steel of size 15 shrapnels.
And the ox carts were rolling under the moon
on to Afyon via Akşehir.

The sixth of August order's been issued
The first and second armies, with their troops, ox-carts and their cavalry
shifted positions, were to keep on the move.
98956 rifles,
325 artillery,
5 aeroplanes,
2800 odd light machine guns,
2500 odd swords
and 186326 brilliant human hearts
and twice as many ears, arms, feet and eyes
were stirring through the night.
Earth through the night.
Wind through the night.
Faithful to memories, outside of memories,
through the night:
humans, equipment and beasts,
huddling together with their metal, their wood, their flesh,
finding their terrible
and silent sanctuary
in huddling together,
were moving on
with their large and tired feet,
and soiled hands.